 | The Marriage Before Death, And Other Poems |  |
THE HAY-FIELDS ON THE CLIFF TOP.
Just as the hay-fields on the cliff-top draw
Seafarers—yea, two miles away from land!
Bringing sweet thoughts of many a leafy strand,
Making more hateful the fierce wind and raw
That smites those barren furrows which they plough—
Just as the scent of hay-fields makes the hand
Tremble upon the oar, the heart crave now
For fields where flowers and grass-blades do expand:—
Seafarers—yea, two miles away from land!
Bringing sweet thoughts of many a leafy strand,
Making more hateful the fierce wind and raw
That smites those barren furrows which they plough—
Just as the scent of hay-fields makes the hand
Tremble upon the oar, the heart crave now
For fields where flowers and grass-blades do expand:—
So, Gertrude, far away thou drawest me
From life and labour, and their scentless sea—
Sweeter than hay-fields is thy spirit-breath,
Which, loved one, lures me through the gulfs of death,
More wonderful the magic of thine eyes,
Convulsed at sight of which life swoons and dies.
From life and labour, and their scentless sea—
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Which, loved one, lures me through the gulfs of death,
More wonderful the magic of thine eyes,
Convulsed at sight of which life swoons and dies.
| The Marriage Before Death, And Other Poems | |